


my girl's a switchblade, bright light on a cityscape

by usure



Series: bam and we're done! [1]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Banter, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Late Night Conversations, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usure/pseuds/usure
Summary: If Brennan didn't know better, she'd think that she was dreaming.
Relationships: Seeley Booth & Temperance Brennan, Seeley Booth/Temperance Brennan, Temperance Brennan & Angela Montenegro
Series: bam and we're done! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924681
Kudos: 24





	my girl's a switchblade, bright light on a cityscape

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey hey!
> 
> this is going to a a part of a series where i spend an hour writing each one shot (not longer, not shorter), and i just post it! each one shot is inspired by 1-2 words taken from a random word generator, so this is even more chaotic. this is supposed to be me getting over my fear of posting something that's not entirely perfect, and hopefully it'll change my update schedule for the better *fingers crossed*. also, these will all be in different fandoms (because i'm multifandom trash)
> 
> so, without further ado, here is the first oneshot!
> 
> fic title inspo: "celeste" by ezra vine

It was dark when Brennan looked up from the partially constructed skeleton. She blinks owlishly, she swore that it had been noon only minutes ago. A quick glance around the elevated platform lab reveals it to be empty, and a glance down at her watch has her sighing. It was too late ( or too early, depending on how you looked at it) for Brennan to go home for anything other than to change, and Angela was sure to scold her if she showed up bearing the same clothes as the day before. A quick swipe through her mental records confirms that her change of clothes had been used up earlier that week, and was currently sitting forlornly in the dryer. At least this way they would only be wrinkly, and not mildewy as well. 

Brennan sighs again, this time a little louder, and resigns herself to a quick nap before she had to get up and go again. She can’t help but feel like an actor walking off a stage, as the lights shut off automatically behind her as she walks away from the platform. But what is an actor with no audience to act for? Temperance thinks distantly, as she shrugs her backpack onto her shoulders.

“A liar,” The unexpected voice startles her, and she’s palming the knife at her hip (for easy access) and whirling before she recognizes the speaker.

“Booth! You could have announced yourself you know.” Booth chuckles in response from where he’s leaning against the door.

“You made it too easy Bones. Anyone ever tell you that talking to yourself isn’t a great sign of how you’re doing here?” At this, he points to his temple and winks hugely. Brennan thinks that the finger pointing was unnecessary and redundant (yet oddly charming, despite everything). She mentally shrugs aside the last thought, and scoffs disbelievingly.

“You’re being juvenile.” Brennan takes a second to grab her badge from the pocket of her coat, and then strides past Booth. “Just like Sweets.”

Booth whistles, low and sweet, and Brennan can hear him following behind her. Without thinking, she slows down so she can fall into step with him. It’s instinct after the amount of time they spend walking from place to place together, and the large presence of Booth by her side eases some anxiety in her that she hadn’t noticed rising. 

“Really, you’re comparing me to the high-schooler? That’s a low blow, even for you Bones.” Brennan rolls her eyes at his complaints, and absolutely does not relish in the body heat that Booth exudes when he elbows her in the side. “What have you got to say for yourself, huh?”

“Grow a thicker skin,” The light-hearted jab falls from her mouth without a second thought, and she wonders absentmindedly when she had gotten so comfortable speaking her mind around Booth. She struggles to find a specific moment that was a changing point in their relationship. It was such a gradual change, but it still feels like only yesterday when they were fighting instead of bantering, and struggling to find anything in common. Right now though, (although she would never admit it to anyone) Brennan considered Booth one of her closest friends and confidants.

“-Bones? Bones, I think I lost you there for a second?” Brennan scolds herself for getting so caught in her head and for forgoing going home earlier, and turns to give Booth a tight smile.

“Sorry, just thinking.” At this, he grins, as though she hadn’t just been ignoring him in favor of her own ruminations, and starts bombasting in a tone like own of his sports announcers:

“The great Dr. Temperance Brennan! Thinking! Quick, grab your cameras, what a rare sight,” Brennan chuckles despite herself, and upon catching Booth’s devious expression, backtracks.

“Why are you saying that as though I never think?”

“Nope, no take-backsies, I totally saw that you understood that joke!”

“Are you picking up your son’s behavioral patterns already? That’s not a good sign.”

So on it went, Brennan relaxing more and more with each back and forth (she might even say that she was enjoying herself if juvenile humor wasn’t above her), until the front entryway of the Jeffersonian was right at their feet. She had been in the middle of teasing Booth about his happy avocado socks, and upon realizing how much time she had spent talking to him, stopped talking abruptly. She could hear Booth start to say something, but he too fell silent as they stared at each other’s reflections. They were close together now, and the slight height difference between them made Brennan feel a light tingling in her stomach for some reason.They looked .. right together. Booth cleared his throat awkwardly, and Brennan hastily turned her head towards him.  
“Well, I guess that it’s time for us to part.” Brennan felt as though she could only be imagining the reluctance in his voice, or the way that when she glanced back, he was still staring at their reflections. Suddenly desperate to break the odd tension that was suspended between them (like spider silk, stronger than it has any right to be and almost visible in the surrealism of the early hour), she cleared her throat, watching Booth’s eyes snap back to her without any hesitation.

“Yes, it’s time for me to get home.” Brennan was sure that she imagined the disappointment in Booth’s eyes (warm brown, like chocolate from her childhood, sweet and nostalgic all at once) or the sense of abandonment she feels in herself.

“Ah, yeah! Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

Despite a small voice urging her to say yes, Brennan assures him that she’ll be okay, that she has her knife (he sighs at that one, and Brennan testily reminds him that she doesn’t need a permit for that), and that she’ll see him in a couple of hours. The walk to her car feels longer than usual, her tired brain running on fumes and struggling to work as fast as she wants it too. She drives home slowly, pinching herself so she doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel. Her bed is large and pleasantly cool (but far too empty that little voice whispers), and she’s asleep within seconds. 

(The next morning, while Angela is busying scolding her, and she’s doing her best to tune Angela out, as Booth yawns over the full mug of coffee he’s holding, as Hodgins reprimands a new intern. As all this is happening, and she’s struggling to turn her brain on via coffee, Brennan realizes that she doesn’t know why Booth was there so late. She briefly contemplated that he might have been waiting for her to finish, hesitant to interrupt her work, then dismisses that thought. 

He couldn’t have been, that was extreme even for a man as kind and charitable as Booth. But the thought sticks, first through the day, then through the next couple of cases. It doesn’t happen again at 4am in the morning, but everytime she stays up that late she expects to see Booth waiting by the door. She can’t quite quash the disappointment when he falls to appear. Through it all, she wonders.)

**Author's Note:**

> wooh, this was incredibly stressful to post. i really hope that you like my style of speedwriting, let me know what you guys think (love, hate, ambivalent, thoughts about characterization, dialogue, headcanons) i wanna hear from you guys!
> 
> have a great day/ night/ whatever time of day it is for you, stay safe, and thanks for reading!


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